Chained
by Nausicaa Smith
Summary: On his first day as the 10th Captain, Toshiro finds a familiar face.  As the youngest Captain ever he's out to prove his abilities to the Gotei 13... and to himself, too.  In progress.
1. Chapter 1

She was tall. Very tall, but then perhaps that was only from _his_ perspective. She was thin, too. She had long, glossy blonde hair, big pale blue eyes, and almost ridiculously large breasts. Her uniform hung too loose about the top, and her hair was in her face. Not quite slobbish, but unprofessional to say the least. And yet, there was something so familiar about her, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. Surely they hadn't met before? She appeared very feminine, and yet gave off a hard sort of vibe. She wasn't delicate. She was...

"Matsumoto Rangiku!" She held out a hand to him.

His train of thought interrupted, Hitsugaya Toshiro shook her hand quickly and pulled his own away, while trying not to appear rude or jittery. When his power wasn't well controlled his skin could become cold enough to freeze water—and at the moment he was nervous enough for it to be fluctuating wildly. Of course, control was a relative matter. He'd been out of the Academy for a half dozen years and they'd graduated him with honors. It wasn't dangerous, just disconcerting to others.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir!" Lieutenant Matsumoto bowed low, and Toshiro wasn't sure if she was serious or mocking.

"Lieutenant Matsumoto has been with the division for forty years, and has managed the troops herself sans Captain for that entire time." the aged Commander informed him, handing over a folder of paperwork. "It's a shame it's taken us so long to find a new Captain. The Tenth Division has been without one for nearly sixty years."

"Then it seems that Lieutenant Matsumoto must be very good at her job." Toshiro said politely.

"Indeed, I think so. She's somewhat overworked at this point, but things should be more normal from now on. Well, I suppose you two will have a lot of work to do in getting started, so you're dismissed. Good luck, Captain Hitsugaya."

Captain Hitsugaya. It was weird to hear those words together, to know that that was how he was to be addressed from now on. His introduction to the other Captains had gone smoothly enough, although he was sure that they would doubt his ability. Not that it made a difference; the Commander didn't doubt his ability, and that was all that mattered. Still, it was irritating to know that they were all waiting for him to fail. As if the Academy was getting lax or something, as if they were just graduating anyone who could hold a sword. But no matter. Toshiro had spent years striving to be perfect at whatever task he took up, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to be perfect at this, too.

They exited the Commander's office and stepped out into the bright morning sunshine. It was the middle of October, and the sky was that special shade of October-blue that can't happen during any other time of year. Autumn always was Toshiro's favorite time of year, when the oppressive heat of summer lifted and the cool winds came pouring in. They both stalled awkwardly at the bottom of the steps, as Toshiro realized with a guilty start that he didn't actually know where the Tenth Division was housed. He'd only been notified of his promotion the evening before. Lieutenant Matsumoto grinned at him, and took a deep breath of the balmy air.

"Isn't it a lovely day?" She tossed her hair back, and again Toshiro had the distinct impression that he knew her already. Where had he seen her before? "Why don't we go ahead and I'll show you to your office? I've arranged for the troops to assemble at oh-nine-hundred so you can introduce yourself and do an inspection."

"Very well, then." He wondered if he ought to try to sound more professional. How did the other Captains treat their Lieutenants? Probably it depended on the individuals involved, he guessed. He'd been promoted from a fifth seat position in the 2nd Division, and Captain Soi Fon wasn't exactly open about her relationships with the other officers. He would have to observe the others carefully from now on.

"Right now we're divided into three squads, one headed by the third seat, one by the fourth and one by the fifth. That's the way they were arranged when I came to the Tenth." She looked back over her shoulder and down at him as he followed her through the labyrinthine streets of Seireitei. "Of course, it's up to you if you'd like to rearrange us."

"Oh, no, that's probably not a good idea." Toshiro studied her outline as covertly as he could; she was thin, but muscular. Not a slacker in the training department, then. She wore a long cerulean scarf around her shoulders, and a thin golden chain glinted from her neck. She turned back to face forward as they turned left, and suddenly the low autumn sunlight was blinding. It didn't seem to bother her.

"Not a good idea?" she repeated.

"No, at least not for a few weeks." He shielded his eyes with one hand, making careful note of the path they were taking. "People are a creatures of habit, after all, and a change in management always causes some amount of unrest. Coming in and changing everything around immediately would do nothing but make me unpopular."

"Oooooh, very wise, sir." Her voice was high and girlish, but he was sure that she hadn't run a division on her own for forty years if her personality was high and girlish as well. The tone made him sure that she was assessing him, as much as he was assessing her. Of course she would doubt his abilities; he was half her height and probably a quarter her age. Toshiro gritted his teeth. He'd have to fake an air of confidence and be careful to make no mistakes for a good, long time. They arrived in the Tenth Division's housing and she led him up to the main barracks and office buildings.

"Your office is in here, sir." she slid the door open and waved him inside. It was a wide room with hard wood floors. The windows were open facing north. There were two heavy wooden desks, one centered in front of the windows and the other pushed up against the right-hand wall. The opposite wall was covered in shelves full of books and files. "Um." Matsumoto shut the door behind them. "My apologies. I moved my desk in here about a month after I came. I've been doing the Captain's share of the paperwork, and there are a lot of files in here that I need to reference. But regulations say that the files have to stay in the Captain's office, and I kind of got tired of walking back and forth to check them, you see..."

"Understandable." Toshiro surveyed the room. "If the division is used to you being in here, then you should keep your things here for a while at least."

"Really? I was going to have my desk packed up and moved before lunch, it's no problem."

"Really. You've effectively _been_ the Captain for what, did the Commander say forty years? If your troops see you move and come to the conclusion that I've come in on my first day and just kicked you out, that's a recipe for disaster. Besides, it may help us get to know each others' habits." Toshiro eyed the bookshelves. "And if I'm to pick up my share of the paperwork, I'll need someone to teach me the filing system, of course."

"As you wish, Captain." She bowed again. Her hair parted straight down the middle and hung toward the floor in golden waves. _Where have I met her? _"We haven't got any current assignments, but there are some drills scheduled for this afternoon. Would you like me to reschedule them for a more convenient time?"

"No, no. Go ahead and carry out all your normal routines for this week, it's best to let the troops keep their regular routines for now. Have you got a schedule posted?"

"Um, no sir, there's no written schedule. I can write one for you, though!" She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out paper and ink.

"That would be helpful, I would like to know what everyone is up to during working hours." Toshiro had a look at his own new desk while she scribbled away. The top was clear, the drawers empty. It and the chair were also covered in a layer of dust. He'd have to clean it up this evening.

Actually, looking around, everything in the room was covered in a thin layer of grime. Perhaps he'd call the maintenance staff to take care of it. Toshiro had always been of a fastidious nature, and he didn't want to start out on the wrong foot here. Surely Lieutenant Matsumoto should have been able to find the time to wipe down the bookshelves—but then, she'd been doing two people's jobs, after all. Toshiro decided to make a judgement on that another day.

"Basically we do all-inclusive training on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays." Matsumoto handed him the handwritten schedule she'd drawn up. "Usually swordplay in the mornings and hand to hand plus kidou in the afternoons. Tuesday everyone is expected to participate in individual practice, and they log their time at the Division's dojo or at the training grounds. On Thursday mornings the seated officers take their squads out for team drills, and Thursday afternoons are free. Most people use the time to meditate or study on their own, but we've got a fair handful who take supplemental classes at the Academy."

"That sounds perfectly reasonable. I'll observe training this afternoon then, just carry on as you usually do until we find a reason to change anything."

"Yes, sir." Matsumoto slid the door back open as Toshiro laid the schedule down on the dusty desk. "The Third Seat should have the men assembled by now, if you're ready."

They were assembled, all right. Toshiro stood up as straight as possible as they walked out to the courtyards. He knew it didn't matter, that they'd see his tiny stature and insignificant frame and think that he wasn't capable. That he was just a little boy with too much spiritual pressure. Again, his resolve to be as perfect as possible was hardened. Lieutenant Matsumoto walked out in front of the neat rows of men lined up in crisp black uniform, and her demeanor was much more brusque than it had been back in the office.

"Atten-_tion_!" She stood tall before them, Toshiro at her elbow. He noted with some surprise that she had their complete and undivided attention, and somehow not a single one seemed to be staring at her ample cleavage. Perhaps her unprofessional appearance meant little. _And really,_ he thought, _who am I to be judging anyone by their appearance?_

"Good news, gentlemen! This morning the Commander saw fit to appoint us a Captain!" They did not move. Matsumoto indicated Toshiro at her side and went on, "This is Captain Hitsugaya and he'll be taking over command of the Division starting today. Captain?"

Toshiro stepped forward, acutely aware that every single soldier was taller than him. What fun.

"Good morning," he said, in as flat a tone as possible. "I am Hitsugaya Toshiro, formerly of Division Two. I was only informed last night that I'd been placed as your new Captain, so I didn't have time to prepare a speech. I'd like you to know that it's an honor to be able to work with you all, and I hope to take a lot of the pressure off of Lieutenant Matsumoto here, so maybe she'll have a day off now and then. I've instructed her to keep your current schedule for the time being, so don't fear that we're about to disrupt your regular routines. So—I suppose for now you can all get back to what you'd normally be doing, and we'll all get to know each other soon enough."

Taking his cue, Matsumoto stepped forward again, her scarf blowing in the light breeze. "Back to your stations, dis-_miss_!"

The men broke ranks, and whispers broke out among pockets of them as they drifted away. Toshiro stood by Matsumoto and watched them go, noting that the Third, Fourth and Fifth Seat officers had not come to introduce themselves. He'd have to see to that later.

"Oh, Captain." Matsumoto started walking back toward the offices, speaking back over her shoulder as he followed. "I put in an order for some supplies for you, since your desk is probably empty. They should be delivered by lunchtime."

"That is good, thank you. I don't wish to fall behind on the paperwork." The barracks came into view and Toshiro soon spied a familiar figure dressed in black milling around by the doors. A mild sense of dread came over him as he realized that the figure was almost hopping with excitement. She at last broke into a run, sprinting towards them at breakneck speed. Toshiro prepared himself to be clobbered.

"SHIRO-CHAN!" Hinamori Momo threw her arms around him and danced on the spot, her brown eyes wide and round. "I can't believe it! I just heard, I'm so happy for you!"

Toshiro stood still until she had finished hopping, and saw Matsumoto still standing by, looking bewildered.

"My apologies, Lieutenant. This is my sister."

Hinamori proceeded to hug Matsumoto, too. "I'm so glad it was you, Rangiku! I know the two of you will get along just perfectly!"

"I hope so, Lieutenant Hinamori." Matsumoto disentangled herself from Hinamori's grasp, which only caused Hinamori to latch back on to Toshiro, who again stood as still as a statue.

"Hinamori, we have a lot of work to be getting on with." Toshiro said flatly. She let him go.

"Of course you do! So do I, I've got to get this report delivered to Captain Ukitake! I'll see you later, later!" She sped off, skipping every other step. Toshiro and Matsumoto continued on their way up the lane to the offices.

"So..." Matsumoto began as they started up the steps to the porch, "How is your grandmother?"

Even as Toshiro wondered how Matsumoto knew anything about his grandmother, an old memory surfaced and Toshiro's mind finally made the connection: a familiar face, with much shorter golden hair, a shocking pink scarf tied at her throat. Kneeling in his bedroom back at Granny's house, her fingertips at his throat, and her high girlish voice—_"You hear a voice, don't you?"_

How ironic, that she'd pushed him to become a Shinigami only to have him become her superior in a handful of years.

"I knew I had recognized you." Toshiro reached the office door and opened it. "She is better. Hinamori visited her last week."

Matsumoto grinned widely, revealing perfect white teeth. "I'm glad." She said. "I didn't expect to ever see you again after that day in the Rukongai, but here you are. Maybe it's Fate."

"More likely, just a coincidence." In a corner of the room Toshiro found a closet and opened it hopefully. Just as he expected, it contained shelves of cleaning supplies that looked as though they'd never been touched. Did maintenance just skip over this room? But then it hit him—of _course_ they just skipped over this room. This was the Captain's office, and there hadn't been a Captain for forty years! _Well_, Toshiro said to himself as he picked out a spray bottle and a white dust rag, _we'll have to put in some calls about that_.

* * *

><p>AN: This will be my first attempt at a serious multi-chapter fic. Most of the long stuff I write devolves into crack, but I'm going to try hard with this one. I have thirteen chapters planned, but there may be delays between each one. Please be patient.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning dawned bright, but before Toshiro had set out for work there were dark storm clouds rolling in and a harsh wind whipping at his coat. By the time he'd got inside his office and opened up the windows fat raindrops were already spattering down. He was pleased to see that the janitorial staff had indeed been in and that the room was spotless. Since the sun wasn't coming in much he went ahead and lit the lamps. The paperwork had already been delivered in a neat piles on each of their desks.

It wasn't going to be a pretty day, but Toshiro was determined that it was going to be a good one. He'd had a surprisingly decent night's sleep in the Captain's quarters, which the Commander had pressed him into taking. He'd rather have had a room at the barracks, but the Commander insisted that all the Captains needed space from their Division in their free time, and that the ones who stayed with their soldiers too many nights a week were the ones who wound up in the Fourth Division with nervous breakdowns.

Matsumoto turned up a few minutes later, soaked to the bone, her hair flattened and sticking to her face. Toshiro refrained from smirking and started some tea while she wrung her scarf out over the wastepaper basket by her desk. It was pink today. She tied her hair up with a rubber band from her desk and managed to look elegant, if not professional, in spite of the wet and tangled mess it had become. She seemed to be in good spirits as well.

"Oh, I do love a good rain. It was so hot this summer, it'll be good if we have a nice chilly fall." She leafed through the paperwork on her desk. "I suppose I shall cancel training this morning on account of the storms?"

Toshiro frowned as he dropped the tea ball into the boiling water. "What for?"

"The storm, sir." She was searching her desk drawers for something. "Rain is not a problem, but I heard thunder on my way here. Having a bunch of men out in an empty field waving metal sticks around is just asking for trouble if there's lightning in the vicinity."

"Oh, right." Toshiro squinted out the window at the clouds. "But don't worry, there won't be any lightning. You can continue training as usual."

She stopped rummaging in the drawer and peered up at him, curious

"I beg your pardon, sir," she said, "but I don't see how you could possibly know that. Going into battle in a storm is one thing, but going out just to practice in such weather is risky."

It took a few seconds for Toshiro to see what the problem was. This was a safety issue, and she felt that he was putting her men in danger. True, it would be foolhardy to go out and practice with swords in a thunderstorm. But there wouldn't be any lightning this morning.

"Lieutenant Matsumoto, I'll just ask you to trust me. There won't be any lightning. If you see any, you may bring the troops in immediately and reschedule."

She looked suspicious, but she simply said, "Yes, sir." and exited without any further comment. Toshiro watched her lead the division out into the pouring rain a half hour later. They had a disgruntled air about them, but he didn't see anyone throwing any tantrums. He suspected Matsumoto had given them a lecture about giving the new kid a chance—after all, all this stuff would fall back on _her_ if Toshiro failed.

Meanwhile Toshiro sat down to the paperwork with a cup of tea. Most of it was verification that this person and that person really did work in the Tenth Division, some safety and training audits, some follow-ups on previous reports. Toshiro hadn't been here for any previous reports, so he marked those N/A and moved on. He got a good chunk of it done before he decided to go out and observe the division's training session.

The walk down to the training grounds was very wet and kind of miserable, and the poor visibility slowed his flash steps down considerably. It was probably also pretty cold for people other than himself. Still, training in all kinds of weather was necessary and he'd been forced to do it himself plenty of times. It was important to know how to grip your sword when it was slick with water, how to squint through the droplets to see clearly. In twenty minutes he had arrived at the precipice overlooking the training grounds and squatted at the top, peering through the rain. There was a group doing drills and another group taking turns at sparring.

Matsumoto herself was standing near the first group, watching and making corrections. These must be the newest recruits, Toshiro decided. He watched her guide them for a few minutes before turning his attention to the other group just in time to see someone get slashed across the shoulder. An older guy hadn't pulled his blow in time; Toshiro had seen it happen a dozen times in his previous division. Nine times out of ten it ended in a fistfight. His eyes flicked to Matsumoto, who had stopped what she was doing to eye the two from her position by the other group. The soldier with the injury opened his mouth to shout—but then, seeing Matsumoto standing off in the distance with her eyes on him, seemed to think better of it. He sheathed his sword and walked off the field.

It was interesting that Matsumoto's mere presence on the other side of the field was enough to make him restrain himself. The next pair walked out into the circle and bowed to each other. Meanwhile, Matsumoto intercepted the injured man and spoke to him, pointing back toward the city. _Probably telling him to head for the Fourth Division_, Toshiro thought. Too bad he couldn't hear them from his vantage point. As the man walked off covered in blood bright against the rainy backdrop of gray that masked everything, Matsumoto just happened to look in Toshiro's direction and caught his eye. She didn't move to greet him, merely nodded her acknowledgment of his presence.

It didn't take a second, though, for a half dozen soldiers in the first group to look in the direction Matsumoto was looking and there was a rash of pointing and shouting. Toshiro couldn't hear them, but he could read their lips at a distance: _"Captain Hitsugaya is watching us!"_ Matsumoto rolled her eyes at them. _"Of _course_ Captain Hitsugaya is watching us. Get back in formation!"_ Another second later and they were formed back up.

The rain let up by mid-morning and Toshiro walked himself back to the office. By the time the training officially ended at noon he'd finished all his paperwork and was studying the chart of the filing system that he'd had Matsumoto draw out for him the afternoon before. It was very simple, he would surely have it mastered by the end of the week. There were footsteps and a scuffling in the hallway outside, which he supposed was Matsumoto returning, but then he heard a male voice:

"So what, you're booting me from the division?"

"I didn't say that." Replied Matsumoto's voice. "Enrique, if I booted you that'd mean paperwork. I _despise_ paperwork. But with you chopping people up, that's more paperwork too. You've got to watch yourself, man, your reflexes are getting questionable and you aren't getting any younger."

"Then you're saying I'm old and useless?"

"I didn't say that either! Look, for the past eight years running we've had a perfect safety score. This is your third incident this year and you've ruined our record single-handedly. And that's okay, man, shit happens. But take yourself to the Fourth Division. Get your eyes checked. We can't keep having accidents like this, follow? We're going to take penalties from the Commander over it, you mark my words."

"Yeah yeah, I'll go tomorrow. See ya."

"And don't miss training for it, slacker."

One set of footsteps faded, the other approached the office door and a much-drier Matsumoto appeared momentarily. Toshiro said the first thing that came to his mind:

"En..._rique_?"

"I know, right?" Matsumoto propped her weapon up against the side of her desk. "Weirdest name. He's been with the division for forty-seven forevers, longer than I have. Good guy, but he's losing his touch."

"Well you seem to have it under control."

"I try, sir. Um... just out of curiosity... how _did_ you know there wouldn't be any lightning?"

Toshiro shrugged. "Just a hunch."

A knock at the door interrupted them and Matsumoto reached out to slide it open. A girl stood there with two lunch trays—Toshiro had forgotten that standard practice was for the officers to accept their lunch in the office. He really didn't like to eat when he was at work. It wasn't the quality of the food, so much as the nature of the environment. Work was for _working_, not snacking. But the Commander insisted that it be served. He said that the officers had enough to be getting on with without having to make their own lunch to bring or leave the office to buy food. He said he also wanted to make sure that everyone had at least one nutritious meal available every day.

Toshiro knew that things were the way they were for a reason and that Commander Yamamoto had had years and years of experience with these issues. Still, all this stuff was tiresome. But he took his lunch tray without complaint and drank the tea. Matsumoto ate hers thoughtlessly, glancing over paperwork. She was probably preparing to file an accident report for that Enrique guy.

"Oh, sir, there's a note here from the Commander. It's to remind us that we're required to spar together at least once per calendar week."

"Yeah, I remember him saying something about that." Toshiro said. "We can do that after lunch if you want, assuming you're not busy."

"Oh, that's fine, Captain! This paperwork isn't urgent. I can finish it this evening before we leave."

"All right. What is the rest of the division up to?"

"They'll be doing kidou drills after lunch and detailing the barracks this evening. Perhaps we should just join them in the courtyard and practice our own kidou?"

"That sounds fine, it's best if they see us participating. We can walk down to the training grounds another day and have a real match."

They finished their lunches quickly and prepared to join the division in training, but before they had collected their things to leave there was another knock at the door. Matsumoto answered it in puzzlement—the paperwork had already been dropped off and lunch was over, after all. Toshiro moaned inwardly when he heard a familiar voice chirping, "Hi Rangiku!"

"Yo, Hinamori." Matsumoto let her in and started picking up her lunch tray to put away.

"Hey, there's a summons for you guys, to the Commander's office." Hinamori laid a sheet of paper on Toshiro's desk and flung her arms around him where he stood. "I was in the neighborhood so I thought I'd drop it by."

"You were _not_ in the neighborhood, you just wanted an excuse to spy on us. And get off me!"

"Fine, be that way!" she let him go and stuck her tongue out at him. "Sorry Toshiro's so snippy Rangiku, he was born that way."

"Good_bye_, Lieutenant Hinamori." Toshiro picked up the paper while Hinamori stomped out in a mild huff. Whatever.

"Good_bye_, Captain Grumpypants."

"Did she say we were summoned to the Commander's office?" Matsumoto squinted over his shoulder at the orders. "Today?"

"Yes, today. We'd better go ahead right now."

"Right, I'll hand drills off to the third seat." She scurried out and was back by the time Toshiro had signed the order and filed it away. "Ready?"

"Ready, let's go."

They left the offices and passed by the troops in the courtyard, who were setting up some targets for kidou practice. With flash and in fairer weather they'd arrived near the Third Division's territory in less than fifteen minutes. Toshiro was unsurprised to see Captain Ichimaru strolling along and greeted him cordially.

"Captain Hitsugaya, a pleasure." Ichimaru nodded, his smile catlike and unnerving. "Yo, Ran."

Matsumoto smiled and waved with a familiarity that caught Toshiro off guard, though he strove not to show it. He didn't know Ichimaru well at all, but couldn't help but notice that he got a creepy vibe from the man. His hackles raised involuntarily whenever the silver-haired Captain was in the vicinity, there was just something unsettling about him. He made a mental note to bring this up to Hinamori next time they were alone, wondering if she'd show the loyalty to Ichimaru that she did to Aizen. Ichimaru had been Aizen's lieutenant before her, after all. But perhaps she'd be jealous instead.

They arrived at the Commander's office and were ushered inside without having to wait. As they approached the old man's desk Toshiro worried briefly if he'd already screwed something up irreparably. Fortunately the Commander began to speak immediately, which took away Toshiro's opportunity to get himself worked up over what turned out to be nothing much.

"I've got an assignment for you two." He growled, without preamble. "Normally I'd let you two get settled into your new routines a bit, but this is urgent. Captain Soi Fon or Captain Kuchiki usually take this sort of assignment but they're both unavailable, Ukitake has been hospitalized, Kyoraku's taken a month's vacation and everyone else is involved with other assignments."

"What sort of assignment?" Toshiro asked, masking suspicion. All the other Captains were busy? _All_ of them? Hardly likely.

"Well I'm hoping it turns out to be just nothing. You'll need to send out a recon team to scout out a possible rebellion—a group made up of Shinigami who were thought to have gone MIA at different times over the years has been spotted half a dozen times out in the 47th District, and they seem to have an agenda. It could be just a rumor, or you could wind up squashing an insurrection of some sort." Commander Yamamoto passed Toshiro a file and stood up. "I've got to check up on something in one of the outer districts this evening and I won't be available until tomorrow morning. Go ahead and assemble a team tonight if possible—the best way to end a revolt is to stop it rising up in the first place, after all."

Toshiro took the file and bowed. The Commander wished them luck as they left his office and found themselves outside in the weak autumn sunshine.

* * *

><p>AN: Two chapters! I've noted something that may turn out to be an inconsistency by the next chapter, but if it does I will come back and edit the first two. I am a stickler for continuity.


	3. Chapter 3

They tramped back to the office in a somewhat depressed silence. The sun was out now, shining intermittently through the remaining clouds. Hinamori crossed their path, but stuck her nose up and pretended not to see them. It was just as well, because Toshiro didn't have the patience for her mockery right at this moment. They arrived at the office mid-afternoon. More paperwork had arrived. Training was over with. The tea had gone sour, just like Toshiro's mood.

"I'm sure you already know, but he's testing you."

Well, fucking duh.

"Of course he is." Toshiro poured out the tea, hoping that he appeared normal and calm. "There's no way that _all_ the other Captains are too occupied to cover it."

"So what are you going to do?" Matsumoto was looking at him, but he was careful not to meet her eye. They were somewhat low on tea bags, he'd have to order some.

"Well, he said to go ahead and send out a recon team. Why don't you pick out three men who you think would be suited for the job? You know them better than I do, after all." Toshiro studied the orders that the Commander had given them. "Send them out armed, better safe than sorry. They're looking for suspicious cult-related activity in the woodlands near the border between the 47th and 48th Districts. Possibly with trained ex-shinigami involved."

"Very well sir." Matsumoto picked up a clipboard that hung by the door which contained a roster of all the soldiers in the 10th Division. It wasn't official paperwork, but something of her own devising that she'd shown him the day before: a rolling list of the whereabouts of every single soldier under her command. Who was on vacation, who was on medical leave, who was Hollow-hunting in the Real World, who was on assignment in another district or working on a special squad outside the 10th—anyone who wasn't expected to be in the Division's territory for most of his or her work day was clearly marked and labeled. The name of any man who was unaccounted for could be checked against her roster and either be located or reported missing at a moment's notice. She flipped through the papers for a handful of seconds and then checked off three names. "Shall I have them spend the night?"

Toshiro wavered here. Night in the Rukongai was dangerous even mid-way out, and he had no intention of being responsible for any casualties during his first week. On second thought, though, who in their right mind would be carrying on with cult-related activities out in broad daylight? There would likely not be anything to be found until sundown. And they'd be armed, after all.

"Yes, tell them to stay if they find a reason to stay, but let it be on their judgement. And if they do decide to stay, have them send word by nightfall. I'll be here doing some practice on my own until well after dusk."

While Matsumoto walked down to the soldiers' lounge to find and brief the men she had chosen, Toshiro took a deep breath and fretted.

_All the other Captains are busy, my ass_.

It was amusing that the Commander had thought that he would buy that. Still, this wasn't a big deal. There would be untold thousands of other assignments to complete at the Commander's bidding, and although the first one felt shiny and new, it was nothing to get worked up over. He felt like something of a slacker for having Matsumoto choose the recon party, but then it would have been foolish for him to have picked three men at random himself while not knowing any of them or their skills or how they worked together. He'd make up for it by being here to deal with either their return by nightfall or their report on what they'd found and why they were staying. He really _had_ planned on staying late into the night to meditate and go through a kidou practice. Matsumoto probably thought he'd made that up so he could stay and micromanage them due to nerves. Oh, well.

"Okay, they're off, sir." Matsumoto returned, apparently chipper, and laid the orders back on his desk. "I've signed off on the orders, so when they've turned in their report it only needs to be filed."

"Good." Well, that was that then. Toshiro went back and forth for a minute over whether to make more tea, and then decided against it. The day was nearly over, and soon he'd be the only one around the office to drink it.

The third seat came by to drop off some paperwork, which Matsumoto set about filing away at a leisurely pace while humming lightly to herself. Toshiro was again perplexed by her behavior. On the one hand, her uniform deviated from the standard guidelines. Her cleavage was exposed and her hair was just—all over the place. She took orders well but didn't seem shy about questioning him—which was just as well, really. Toshiro probably had less confidence in his ability to lead the division than she did. He didn't want one of those robotic lieutenants that just followed orders and agreed with everything he said. On the other hand, she had run the division single-handed for so many years and the place was still intact. And the crew was obviously unfailingly obedient to her.

She was an enigma.

But then, Toshiro thought, she probably thought the same thing about him. Some random kid from the Rukongai with weird hair and a serious inability to control his spiritual pressure suddenly gets placed in command of a division that's been without a Captain for half a century? And not a handsome, charismatic new graduate of the Academy, either, but a _kid_, half her height and weight. How long would she tolerate his aloof nature before she started to lose patience? How long before she went to the Commander and asked to be reassigned? He wouldn't be surprised. It had always been only Granny and Hinamori who'd stuck by him, and that wasn't about to change. Plus, Toshiro had no intention of being one of those Captains whose Lieutenant would take the proverbial bullet for them—yes, there was plenty to be said for loyalty and dedication, but there was no need to put the Captains up on a pedestal like that. They weren't exactly normal everyday folk, but neither were they heroes or Gods.

They passed the rest of the afternoon in a neutral silence. There wasn't anything to discuss and the troops were quite self-sufficient. Matsumoto left with a polite "good evening" at four o'clock. He noted with mild disdain that there was a small stack of papers on her desk, but decided that he'd done enough work today and did not investigate them. Probably paperwork that she'd put off for later, had been unable to complete today due to... well, due to something. Toshiro sat in the office and meditated quietly for over an hour after that. He gave up before six, having decided that there was no amount of deep breathing that could ease the tension that had settled in his neck and shoulders.

His kidou practice in the dojo went smoothly. He reached the end of his 200-level book and could produce most of the spells without an incantation, which was impressive even for captain-class shinigami. He'd have to pick up the next book on the weekend and get started with it on Monday. He ran through a calming vinyasa yoga series twice, then put his sandals back on and headed down the corridor to the offices.

The team had not returned, nor had they sent in a report or even a short message explaining the lack of a report.

Wonderful.

Toshiro sat at the desk and practiced more deep breathing. It wasn't quite dark out yet. Surely he'd be seeing a Hell Butterfly flit nonchalantly through the window any minute now.

Yep, any minute.

Any.

Minute.

Pink and orange faded to gray and finally to deepest blue. Mars came into view. With the lamps out in the office Toshiro could see for miles from his perch on the windowsill. The Big Dipper appeared, and the outlines of the trees and buildings on the far horizon faded to blackness. When Toshiro could see the North Star in the inky sky he pressed his fingers to the cold glass and said a little prayer. The windows would be frosted by morning. A frost this early in the season meant they were in for a harsh winter.

Good.

Finally the darkness was so complete that he could no longer see the buildings across the way, nor the training equipment stacked neatly in the corner of the courtyard below. Toshiro climbed down. He pulled off his haori and laid it across the back of the chair at his desk. He didn't like leaving it because the white made him look a little larger and more formidable than the plain black robes, but the fact was that it also made him stick out in a crowd. He lit a single lamp and wrote out a note instructing the division to continue with their regularly scheduled activities in his absence, and to inform a superior of where he'd gone if he wasn't back by mid-morning. He snuffed out the lamp, gathered his sword and a copy of the assignment, and he shut the office door behind him.

He pinned the note to the front of the office door where it would be found immediately in the morning, whether by Matsumoto or one of the seated officers. The corridor was pitch black too, but Toshiro had very good hearing and managed to not run into any walls or fall down the step on his way out. He liked the darkness, and he didn't want to disturb anyone with the light. Although surely by now everyone should be back in their rooms—it was well past ten. He stepped out onto the porch in the moonlight. There was definitely a biting chill in the air that would bother anyone else but him. A slight wind, too, but at least the clouds had cleared off leaving a perfect blanket of diamonds overhead.

"Going after them?"

Toshiro jumped half a foot in spite of the softness of the voice. He turned to see a dark figure leaned against the wall adjacent to the door, deep in the shadows. The shape of it and a glint of gold at the throat told him it was Matsumoto, clearly waiting on him. How long had she been out here? Was she spying on him? Had she perhaps intercepted the team's communication and waited to see what he would do when he didn't get it, in some kind of test of her own? Toshiro wasn't a fool, he knew that she was evaluating him as much as the Commander was. She had been from the beginning.

"They haven't reported in or sent any kind of message." Toshiro said, turning away from her as if unconcerned. "If those were the men you thought best suited for the job and they've been captured, it would be foolish to send anyone else out after them. And in the case of possible cult activity, it would also be foolish to wait until morning to go and check on the situation."

"Very wise, sir. But you've forgotten your haori, haven't you?"

"I'm not well known enough yet as a Captain to be identified as such without it. This way I could be just any new recruit, and it's always safer to be underestimated."

"I see." Toshiro looked back to see that she had stepped out of the shadows, and from her silhouette it was clear that she was already armed. Her voice was still soft, but contained something more stern now, as it did when she addressed the troops. "I suppose we'd best be off then, if we're to return by morning."

"Oh? You're not required to come with me." Toshiro was on the bottom step, looking up at her against the backdrop of the night sky. Her hair blew free in the sharp breeze, encircling her almost like a golden halo in the moonlight.

"The third seat can handle it for a day, sir." She followed him down the steps and they set off through the pristine white streets in search of city walls, beyond which began the dirt roads that signaled the beginning of the Rukongai. "They've been _my_ men for a lot longer than they've been yours."

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry for the delay, I've had final exams but the new semester starts this week. This will be the longest fic I've ever done when I'm finished, and I feel like quality is more important than speed so please be patient. Also don't be surprised if you happen to go back and see revisions in the first few chapters. No major plot points will change, of course.


	4. Chapter 4

With flash and under cover of darkness they had reached the border of the 47th and 48th Districts before midnight. The place was low even for Rukongai standards, although rumor had it that the furthest districts out were unimaginably wild. They passed several raucous parties as they patrolled the streets in silence. Thugs and cutthroats lurked in every shadow, even this late at night. Well, _especially_ this late at night. But seeing the black uniforms pass, they dared not call attention to themselves.

A goodly number of the windows they passed were still lit by firelight that spilled out into the walkways, illuminating big yellow squares of the dirt path ahead of them. Toshiro avoided them carefully, Matsumoto following his soundless footsteps at a distance. They continued in this manner to the very edge of the populated area, where there was a smallish clearing before the woods began.

"Should we go in?" Matsumoto murmured, half a foot behind him.

"I was just thinking that we'll probably have to." Toshiro bit his lip. It would be incredibly stupid to just wander in. What alternative did they have though? They'd found nothing suspicious—at least nothing suspicious of cult-like activity—in the residential area. In a dark forest in the middle of the night was the most likely nearby place for that sort of thing to go on. It was also the most likely nearby place for them to get killed.

"Well, if _I_ were a cult leader," Matsumoto offered, "I know I would hold _my_ meetings in the woods in the middle of the night."

Well, that pretty much cinched it.

"Let's make one last sweep of the area and see if they've got any lookouts. Meet back here in 10 and we'll go in." Toshiro pointed east, indicating the path she should take. "Oh, and if you see any children, ask them if they've seen anything. Kids have big mouths."

"Yes, sir!" her voice was full of repressed mirth. _It's true though. Give a kid candy and he'll tell you anything you want to know. Too bad I don't have any sweets._

Toshiro headed westward, down a dusty street lined with little wooden houses. A cold breeze tugged at his hair, but it was refreshing rather than irritating. He'd begun to sweat out of anxiety. The more and more they didn't find any trace of the recon party, the more and more likely it was that they'd been disappeared on purpose, rather than simply having run across a gang of ruffians or gotten sidetracked by drinking. On the bright side though, perhaps he'd be setting another record tonight; in addition to youngest Captain ever and youngest person to hold bankai, he'd also be Captain to Have Gotten Three Soldiers Killed in the Shortest Time.

Bah. A cloaked black woman passed by, carrying a torch. A dog barked. Toshiro turned a corner and-

"Sir!"

He narrowly avoided running right into Matsumoto.

"There you are!" she pointed behind her, oblivious to the pounding of Toshiro's heart, and he saw that she was leading a small boy. "This boy says his grandmother encountered some Shinigami this afternoon!"

"Here?"

"Yes, and they live just down the next street, sir."

"Well, let's go and speak to her then."

"Yes, sir." Matsumoto took the boy by the hand and they led the way around the block and north. They came out on a much darker street—here, most of the residents had gone to bed. The boy stopped and let them into a one-room house near the very end of the street.

The room was well-lit by a handful of lamps and a fire blazing at the back of the room. The floor was scrubbed clean, with a small rug and sparse furniture. A thin, elderly woman in a faded pink kimono sat on a cushion before the fire, and the boy, who had thus far been silent, leaned over her and whispered in her ear. She turned to see Toshiro and Matsumoto standing at the doorway.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, gesturing for them to join her at the fire. "Come, come!"

Matsumoto and Toshiro shuffled to her side and knelt by the fire where she indicated.

"You," she said, leaning her grayed head toward them, "are shinigami!"

"Yes, ma'am." Said Matsumoto. "Your grandson said that you might have seen some of our associates this afternoon?"

The grandson had set about pulling the curtains and preparing his grandmother's futon for bed. It occurred to Toshiro to hope that his own grandmother had got her fire properly lit tonight.

"Yes, yes! I saw three shinigami this afternoon, a while after lunch." She pulled a shawl tighter about her shoulders and pointed in the direction that Toshiro thought must be west—he couldn't get his bearings here inside—which must have been back toward the woods. "Two sturdy looking men, and a young woman."

"That would be our party, ma'am." Matsumoto leaned forward, intense. "You don't know where they are now, do you?"

"I imagine they've been taken by those rebel shinigami that frequent the woodlands near here."

"Uh, rebel shinigami?" Toshiro raised an eyebrow. The orders had mentioned something about that, hadn't they? He pulled the sheaf of paper from his pocket to examine it.

"Oh, yes." She nodded, and so did her grandson who was rolling up the rug in front of the fireplace. "They've been in there for ages, working on some secret project, maybe a weapon! Every so often a villager disappears, and people attribute it to the rebel shinigami in the woods."

"Okay... and where exactly did you see them?"

"They were in the clearing down there, by the wood. I think they'd been patrolling the edge of town for an hour or two, and then they stopped in that clearing there. They were talking to that black woman in the violet cloak."

The black woman in the cloak? The one who'd just passed Toshiro a few blocks away? He had the sudden urge to run out and find her—but then, it was dark, and she likely had noted his uniform as she passed and made herself scarce.

"What do you know about the black woman in the violet cloak?" he asked, on the off-chance that she may have some information.

"Nothing, nothing at all!" the old woman took a cup of water that her grandson offered. He offered water to the shinigami as well, but they both declined. "She started coming around a week or two ago, nobody knows who she is or what she's up to. I'd say she was with the rebel shinigami, but I haven't seen her associating with them." She nodded to herself. "She comes and walks the streets in the evenings, and is always disappeared by morning."

"I think she's the ghost of a shinigami." Said the grandson absently.

"Now, now, Todd, everyone here is a spirit being."

"Yes, but nobody ever sees her in the daylight, do they?"

She was less likely to be a ghost and more likely to be a spy of some sort, Toshiro thought. Hiding your face and your build with cloaks and shawls, making your moves only under cover of darkness—that was all Stealth 101. Whoever she was, she didn't want to be identified. Granted, that didn't tell them anything else relevant about her. She could be with the rebel shinigami, she could be just someone passing through, she could be running from the law for any other reason or be completely innocent and just anti-social. There was no telling at this point.

"Do you think they went into the woods there?"

"Probably, if it's the rebel shinigami they were looking for."

"Well then, we'd best get after them, then." Toshiro stood up. He slipped the paper with their orders into the fire; if they were captured they'd best not have evidence of why they'd come. "Thank you for your help, ma'am."

"Oh, you're welcome, child." She waved them out. "Do be careful!"

The cold outside was much colder now that they'd gotten warmed up by the fire. It wouldn't take long for him to adjust, though. He turned to Matsumoto in the darkness.

"Do you think they were telling the truth?"

"They didn't strike me as dishonest, sir."

"No, me either. And I did pass by a woman in a cloak, just before you found me."

"You did? So that's why you asked about her. Was she doing anything suspicious?"

"No, just walking along. Like the old woman said, she may not be involved with the rebel shinigami." Toshiro looked around. The coast seemed clear. "I've burned our orders, lest we be captured. Let's put some distance between ourselves and this place, we don't want them descending on our informants."

"Right."

They made their way back to the clearing cautiously. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the woods or the clearing itself. There was also no one milling about, and they'd seen neither hide nor hair of the woman in the violet cloak.

"I suppose there's nothing for it but to go in. Are we ready?"

"I don't see an alternative, sir."

"The quickest way will probably be straight through to the center. Let's stay close, it would be dangerous to get separated."

He assumed he didn't have to tell her to be quiet. They entered the dark forest, and for a moment Toshiro considered lighting up a little kidou so they could see—but that would only give away their position as they approached the enemy, so he thought better of it. Their sandals cracked and popped on the dry leaves and sticks, but they slipped otherwise silently through the trees. Toshiro wondered whether the recon team had entered the woods willingly or whether they'd been kidnapped after being seen by one of the rebel shinigami in the village. It might have seemed pretty safe to just walk in during the daylight.

Something crunched behind them, too far away to have been Matumoto. They both froze in the same instant, but they saw and heard nothing. If they were being followed by anyone who knew what they were doing, the suspect would have frozen in place the same second so that their own footsteps would be covered by those of their quarry. There was nobody there, though, and yet Toshiro couldn't shake off the feeling that they were being watched as they continued. It was hard to judge time without being able to see the stars through the canopy, but they hadn't gone on for much longer when they spotted a light through the trees.

The orange light grew brighter as they crept forward and came to the outskirts of a clearing in what must have been the center of the wood. It was firelight spilling from the windows of a large stone structure. It was a wide two-story building with a thatch-type roof and square windows. Toshiro knelt just outside the circle of light it cast, Matsumoto on her knees at his side.

"I don't suppose this is part of the settlement?"

"Doesn't look like it, the buildings back in the village were mostly wooden."

"Send a message back, for reinforcements. Now that we know where we're going we can scout out the area and be prepared to storm the place if need be by the time they get here."

"They might not get it until dawn, sir."

"That's only a few hours out. We'll have time to assess the situation and cancel the order if need be."

"Yes, sir."

He could see her hands working through the air to produce an ethereal black butterfly, which took off into the night. This method of communication was falling out of favor, but it was highly efficient. Those butterflies could go quite fast, depending on the urgency of the message. That one would likely make it back to the barracks within a quarter hour, though as Matsumoto had pointed out, nobody might find it until breakfast time.

Toshiro moved in an attempt to better see through a low open window, deciding to hop onto the branch of a nearby tree. At this height he was a little taller than Matsumoto, which gave him a childish sort of pleasure for a moment before a movement to the left caught his eye—

"Meow."

A black cat wove its way out of the brush and into the circle of light cast by the fire-lit building, its eyes glowing bright yellow in the slanted light. Matsumoto seemed to have been startled too, but recovered quickly and made clucking sounds to the cat, beckoning it back. The cat ignored her though, and sauntered lazily toward the stone building, tail held almost jauntily high. Its silhouette disappeared at the foot of the building.

_Well we'd best follow it in_, Toshiro thought, jumping down from his branch. He gestured to Matsumoto and together the two of them slunk silently into the shadows of the stone building.

* * *

><p>AN: Four chapters, and so far no crack! Yes, that is Yoruichi lurking about, in case you didn't notice. She's spying on him because his sister is Aizen's lieutenant. I thought I'd add that in as a bit of trivia, because since we're reading from Toshiro's POV and he's never going to find out about it himself, it won't fit into the story. Toodles!


	5. Chapter 5

"Can you hear anything they're saying?"

"No, nothing."

They were lying flat on their stomachs in the dirt, peering through a low, narrow window into the basement of the building. A faint, flickering light source showed a mostly empty room, though the darkness still shrouded the farthest walls and corners. They could hear voices coming from somewhere within, but neither Toshiro nor Matsumoto could make out what was being said.

"It would probably be best if we make certain that they actually do have our missing troops, before we storm the place." Toshiro rose, sliding his back along the wall as they skirted around toward the back, deep in the shadows. "We'd get away with it, but it would certainly be unethical."

"I agree, sir." Matsumoto whispered, "Although I have little doubt that they're here."

"Agreed."

The back side of the building had no windows, and the trees thickened a handful of meters away. However, feeling along in the dark with his foot, Toshiro encountered a big wooden trapdoor—an entrance to the building's basement. They hadn't observed anyone in there, although the voices they heard had to be coming from somewhere nearby. He bent and tugged at the handle. The door lifted a crack. He looked back at Matsumoto, who raised an eyebrow but shrugged without comment.

Toshiro propped the trapdoor up and peered in. There was a single torch flickering on a wall nearby, the the ladder had been hung on the wall next to it. This was clearly meant to be an exit only; they'd have to jump. Toshiro came down silently, Matsumoto landing lithe and catlike behind him half a second later. The voices still echoed faintly, but there was no other sign of life. Matsumoto reached for the torch and pulled it down, and together they circled the room, looking for any exit, any evidence of illegal activities that would give them cause enough to raid the place at daybreak when the division's backup unit was likely to arrive.

They were at the point of mounting a rickety, recessed staircase leading up, when Toshiro caught a silvery glint with his peripheral vision. Matsumoto leaned in the direction he pointed, and the light fell upon three sheathed swords, leaning unattended in the basement's corner. Matsumoto's expression indicated that these surely belonged to their own soldiers. A fortunate coincidence, and one that would leave Toshiro's conscience clear. Toshiro intended for them to swipe the confiscated weapons and slip back out, having acquired the needed evidence to send in a strike team. Unfortunately, some higher power had other plans.

At that moment there was the creak of footsteps on the staircase behind them. Toshiro leaned back into the shadowy corner as Matsumoto froze in position against the wall, lifting the torch overhead and tilting it as if it were mounted flush on the wall. If a person were to take only a cursory glance around, Matsumoto in her dark robes might easily be overlooked.

"I'm telling you guys, I didn't hear anything!" the man on the stairs was shouting back up. There were some unintelligible voices from overhead, and the man descended, rolling his eyes in exasperation. With a few more creaks of the recessed staircase he appeared at the foot and looked around, clearly annoyed by his comrades. He wore standard shinigami robes, but with shortened sleeves, and a black bandana around his head. He looked left, and right, and as Toshiro had hoped, his eyes slid right over himself and Matsumoto as if they were just another part of the walls. Satisfied that he was alone, the man turned and headed back up irritably. "There's nothing down here; it was probably just a squirrel or some shit."

Toshiro let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and then scolded himself for it. Panicking over a single soldier? Ridiculous. Matsumoto shifted and in unison they started back toward the staircase. Motioning for her to stay at the bottom, Toshiro crept up slowly and silently. Since he weighed probably half of what she did, he was able to make it to the top without a single sound. He listened intently at the bottom of the door, watching the dust stir up at his breath in the chink of light entering through the bottom of the door.

"Look," said the man who had come downstairs, "I'm telling you, you're just being paranoid."

"We are _not_ being paranoid!" insisted a second voice. "Those three shinigami weren't just taking a stroll, they were looking for us, man!"

"The girl told us they were looking for evidence of smuggling in the next district. There's no reason to think that they're on to us."

"It doesn't matter what they told us, they obviously aren't just going to come out and say that they knew we were here. No, the Commander sent them because he's got evidence of the plan, and we need to evacuate. Tonight!"

A third voice cut in. "Be realistic for a second. We all know how heavy-handed the Thirteen operates. If they were onto us we'd have been raided and arrested by now. And if we hold these three for much longer, someone will come looking for them and blow our cover for sure."

"Well we obviously can't just let them go, now they know we're here. We'll have to kill them."

"If they don't report in to their captain tomorrow, this place will be swarming with soldiers by the weekend. The jig will be up, fellas."

"So what do we do?"

"Good question. Anybody good enough at kido to alter their memories?"

A general consensus of No.

"Well, what if we whack them on the head and leave them in another district, soaked in booze?"

Another general consensus of No.

"Okay then, suppose we turn them free at daybreak, and evacuate the place? It's not safe to stay in one district too long anyway. We can send word to Aizen-sama in the afternoon."

_Aizen-sama? _ As in Hinamori's Captain Aizen, Division Five? Toshiro dearly wished he'd been able to bring some sort of recording equipment, but the Twelfth Division had surely been asleep by the time he'd left.

"What if we evacuate now and leave them behind? Then the shinigami can come and find them sometime tomorrow, and they can say they were held hostage by the smugglers. If that's really what they're looking for, then our asses are covered. We can notify Master Aizen when we get to the next rendezvous."

"Fine, then. Evacuate. Let's get moving now though. Dawn is only a couple hours out."

Toshiro scrambled quickly down the stairs as the scraping of chairs and footsteps covered the squeaks he made. Getting caught on the confining staircase would not do—combat in close quarters would give them no advantage, and with them being down the stairs it would only give the enemy the higher ground. Matsumoto followed him quickly, hanging the torch back on the wall and swiping the three swords before heading back to the trapdoor. Toshiro got a running start and leaped high enough to grab the slat below the open door. He pulled himself up and through, and Matsumoto threw the swords up to him. She jumped too, and just as she did a light shone down through the basement. But she was already up on the rafter, and in another second out into the open air, sprinting along on Toshiro's heels.

Up a nearby tree, Toshiro took a moment to catch his breath. He hung the three swords from some nearby branches, while Matsumoto settled herself on a lower perch in a neighboring tree. Luckily the leaves had not all fallen here, so in the darkness they had very good cover in the night-black foliage. These rebel shinigami would no doubt notice the missing weapons and realize that their fortress had been infiltrated.

"Did you hear anything significant, sir?" Matsumoto's voice was a half-whisper. Toshiro could see her outline in the next tree, but only because he knew she was there.

"They have three prisoners, who must be our own soldiers. They told the enemy they were looking for evidence of smuggling."

"Good lads, good lads." Matsumoto breathed. "Will they execute them?"

"No, I don't think so. They were talking about releasing them and then evacuating tonight, lest someone come looking for them. Which means if we're going to catch them, or at least some of them, it's got to be soon."

"Suppose we watch for them to leave and see if we can take a couple of them alive?" Matsumoto leaned closer, and she smelled like peppermint. "Obviously we can't overpower a whole hoard of them, but just one or two could be held and interrogated for information."

"Exactly, and that's what this whole assignment was about: information."

They decided to stay where they were and observe the situation. As people began leaving the base, he and Matsumoto would attempt to take a couple by surprise, tie them up and gag them, and hold them for interrogation by the Commander on their return to Seireitei. Meanwhile, if their backup arrived soon, all the better. More and more lights were coming on in the windows, and even at this distance Toshiro could hear faint shouting. The discovery of the missing weapons must have triggered a panic among the ranks inside, which was faintly amusing.

The comments he'd overheard about Aizen stuck in Toshiro's mind and made him highly uneasy about this whole scenario. Aizen was one of the most revered captains in the Thirteen, and one of the oldest. Granted, he had nothing on Captains Ukitake or Kyoraku, but he commanded a great deal of authority and respect as one of the old-school types, and as an all-around nice guy. Not that that kept him from being suspect, but Toshiro had to seriously doubt that he'd be involved in anything as seedy as this. Still, the guy was close to Ichimaru Gin, and Ichimaru was a creep if ever there had been one. He'd made up his mind not to mention it to Matsumoto; nothing good could come of that conversation. Putting it out of his mind, he turned his full attention to the scene before them.

In short order, men started leaving the building while the cover of darkness remained. They could be seen creeping through the shadows, hunched low and avoiding the patches of light just as Matsumoto and Toshiro had done earlier. Some of them were carrying heavy packs, some of them hauled equipment. It wasn't long before one strayed too close to where they were hiding, and Matsumoto pounced. Toshiro heard a dull thud as she cuffed him hard across the head, followed by a whisper of kido that froze him in place in the leaves below.

Toshiro dropped down to stand on a branch low to the ground as another man wandered close. Matsumoto hunched nearer to the tree's trunk, waiting for the man to pass by so that his back was to them. Toshiro found himself impressed by her patience and professionalism here; she hadn't struck the other man hard enough to do permanent damage, or even visible damage, and yet he was out cold in his magical bonds.

Just as the second man was nearly far enough past for Matsumoto to act, a small sound caught the attention of all three:

"Mrrroooww?"

The black cat was perched on Toshiro's branch, luminous yellow eyes looking up at him with curiosity. The rebel shinigami turned sharply at the noise, just in time to block Matsumoto's blow.

_Damn cat! _Toshiro hopped down from the branch to assist her—a swordfight would make too much noise here, and so he didn't draw but circled the two of them as they continued the scuffle hand-to-hand. The man was carrying a backpack that hindered his ability to fight, but he could still block Matsumoto effectively. She grabbed the blocking wrist, and her sharp foot snapped out at his left knee. With a cry he went down, but it seemed that no one else was near enough to have heard. He was silenced and bound in seconds.

Toshiro relaxed, as did Matsumoto, and leaned back against the tree. With a couple of hostages, all they needed to do was wait for reinforcements to arrive and rescue their three captive soldiers. This hadn't been so difficult at all.

"Mrrrrowww?" said the cat. He eyed it suspiciously, with half a mind to scold it. Just then, something hard connected with the back of his head, and Toshiro saw stars.

He came back to himself probably less than a minute later, to hear Matsumoto fighting tooth and nail against someone else in black, another rebel shinigami. The cretin must have followed the stupid cat's noise to their secluded tree while they were distracted by taking down the other man.

Toshiro raised up on his elbow, and saw that he was near enough. He slid one leg swiftly across the ground, catching the opponent by the ankles and toppling him. (Toshiro might not have had weight, but he did have speed and with speed came momentum.) Matsumoto's foot came down on the man's throat as he fell, just hard enough to hold him there, while Toshiro made his way back to his feet, head swimming. But this struggle _had_ been loud enough for others to hear, and before Toshiro realized it they were surrounded.

Shit.

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry for the delay guys, I got stuck halfway through this one because there were two conflicting scenarios I wanted to play out. I may write the other one later as an alternate ending or something. The next chapter is mostly written too, so be watching for it in the coming couple of weeks. Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day!


	6. Chapter 6

_Stupid, stupid, stupid cat!_

"Be still and roll your eyes up. I think you're concussed."

Having little choice but to surrender under the circumstances, they'd been disarmed and marched to an unlit room deep within the hideout. It had a single barred window, and Toshiro had lost his sense of direction going through the corridors. He didn't know which side of the house they were on or which direction they may be facing. Matsumoto used a little kido as light to examine his head. He'd taken a heavy blow to the back of his skull, and it pounded painfully.

"The whites of your eyes are turning black," she said after a moment of squinting at him, "so don't fall asleep."

"Right." Toshiro looked around the dim room. It was a lot warmer in here than it was outside, which he recognized would be a relief to a normal person. Toshiro disliked heat. But the room was tiny; he could almost touch both walls with his arms reaching out to each side, and he was sure that Matsumoto could have. The floor was dusty and filthy. He picked up a white pebble from a corner. "I wonder if the others are in a nearby room." he said.

"They're in here somewhere, there's no doubt about that." Matsumoto said. "But I think the evacuation is continuing and they intend to leave us here."

"Yeah, that's my understanding." Toshiro sat down. "I think we had best wait for them to make themselves scarce, and then break the door or the bars and escape. This room isn't exactly heavily secured."

"Yes, we had best be visible when backup arrives. I don't think Yosho will make the decision to enter without cause, and an apparently abandoned building isn't cause."

"That's sensible, if inconvenient." Toshiro examined the bars. "I have to wonder why they're so careless about keeping us contained, except that they don't plan on sticking around. They could just as easily kill us or take us with them."

"I suppose they think the Commander will come down on them harder if we don't return, so they're just detaining us for a little while so they can make their getaway." Toshiro nodded agreeably at her assessment. "What shall we do in the meantime?" she asked.

"Wait, I suppose."

"Well," she said, sitting down on the dusty floor, "we may as well use the time to get to know each other. We'll be working together for a good long time, after all."

"Will we?" Toshiro sighed. "I've screwed this up royally. Stupid cat!"

"Of course we will." She didn't sound a bit doubtful. "The Commander wants you, and there's no other positions open, are there? And I've been with the Tenth for too long for me to just abandon it to some new guy, right?"

"Okay then." Toshiro sat against the wall as well, flicked the pebble across to her, and she caught it without looking. This wasn't the sort of thing he was comfortable with, talking about himself, but she had a good point. The better they knew each other, the better the division would run. "Favorite color." he said.

"Purple. Yours?"

"Green." He caught the pebble without looking, just as she had, and she said, "Favorite food."

"Watermelon."

"Sake."

"That's not a food."

"No, it's a food _group_."

"Fine." Toshiro suppressed a chuckle in spite of himself. He should not approve. "Worst fear."

"Oh, that's a tough one." She pursed her lips, tilted her head. At great length she said, "Probably betrayal."

"I guess we're in agreement there. Betrayal."

"Interesting. Um... do you speak any foreign languages?"

"A little Russian, but not well."

"Oooh, neat. I speak a little French."

"What's the worst thing you've ever done to another person?"

"The worst thing... legally?" He couldn't see her well, but he could imagine her eyebrow lifting slightly.

"No, I mean the worst thing... morally. A thing that makes you feel like a terrible person."

"Well... back when I was a kid in the Rukongai, I was a pretty good pickpocket. Usually we'd steal things indiscriminately, because if it's not money you can always sell it or trade it. One day I stole an old man's wedding ring. I wanted to give it back to him, but by the time I'd realized what it was, I couldn't find him again. I kept it, in case I run into him someday, but so far no luck."

The Rukongai was a rough place, and rougher for children than for anyone. Even the First District wasn't exactly a cakewalk. Toshiro couldn't bring himself to fault her for what she'd had to do to survive.

"I lied to my Granny once," Toshiro admitted. "years ago. Hinamori and I had gone out to buy some sweets for her from the market, and we ran across a beggar. We decided to give her the money, and told Granny we'd lost it."

"Well, that's not so terrible."

"No, it's not. But, you don't know Granny. She's a saint, if ever there was one. It's not the money, she wouldn't care about the money. It's that we _lied_ to her. I've thought about telling her. Maybe she won't remember at all, or maybe she'll never forgive us. We decided we wouldn't tell her, to keep from upsetting her."

"You should tell her." Matsumoto put the pebble in his hand.

"What good would it do now?"

"You'd be doing the honest thing, if you did. And you wouldn't upset her—she's old, sure, but she's a grown-ass adult too. I'm sure she's had worse things happen to her than kindhearted grandchildren. Your _least_ favorite color."

"Orange."

"Gold."

"Gold?" Toshiro eyed her. The sun was peeking through the bars now, and there was enough to shine faintly off the chain at her throat. "Then why are you wearing a gold necklace?"

"It was a gift from Gin, on the day I was accepted into the Academy. I've worn it every day since."

"Fair enough. How old are you?"

"Three hundred and forty nine. You?"

"A hundred and four." Toshiro skipped the pebble across the floor at her.

"Who's the first girl you had a crush on?"

"Um. A girl in our neighborhood in the First District, a long time ago."

"Did she like you back?"

"No, she was afraid of me, just like everyone else."

"Aw, poor thing. I had a crush on Gin, way back. But I got over it; he can be a dick."

_Not to mention creepy_, Toshiro added silently. He said, "What's the name of your sword?"

"Haineko. Yours?"

"Hyorinmaru."

"Hmmmmmm..." she tossed the pebble at Toshiro and he caught it deftly, pressing it between cold fingers. "Tell me... something you've never told anyone else."

"Something I've never told anyone else." he repeated. That wasn't a tough one. There were _lots_ of things he'd never told anyone. "I don't really like jelly beans."

"Pfft, no." she giggled. "Something real, Captain."

"Something real." Real was a matter opinion here, really. "Okay, something real. Um."

They sat in silence for a long moment while he deliberated with himself. At last he said:

"I can remember how I died."

In the expanding dawn leaking in through the window, he could see that her eyebrows were practically crawling up into her hairline. Normally souls were cleansed of memories and personality before they arrived in the Soul Society, so it was a rare thing—nearly unheard-of—for someone to actually have memories of their lives.

"I was probably about two." he elaborated, to fill the shocked silence. "And I had weird white hair and weird turquoise eyes, the villagers thought I was a demon. One day I was out with my father and someone snatched me away from him. They took me into the woods that night during a blizzard and left me."

She still hadn't said anything. Toshiro guessed that there probably wasn't anything proper to be said at an admission like this, but he was compelled to continue.

"This was out in the middle of nowhere, so there was no way anyone was going to find me. I laid there in the snow for a long time and froze and froze, but then finally I was warm and I fell asleep. When I woke up, I could see myself, and somehow I understood that I was dead. I just wandered around in the woods there until the Shinigami came for me."

"Is that... I mean, is it a real memory, or do you just know that's what happened?"

"It's real. It was January. I wasn't wearing any shoes. The Shinigami who came for me was a woman. For whatever reason, instead of performing a Soul Burial she walked me through the Precipice World and into Soul Society. That's why I can remember, because I was never cleansed." he tossed the pebble back at her and she caught it. Her outline was rigid in the shadows. "I used to wish I'd run into the Shinigami who came for me. But I was short, and I didn't get a good look at her. It was a long time ago, anyway. Your turn."

"My turn." she whispered. She tossed the pebble in the air and caught it, was silent for a long moment. "A long time ago I committed a serious breach of protocol. One for which I could have been executed. Years and years ago."

"Should I be surprised?"

"Oh, hush. I was a new recruit in the Eleventh Division, and you know how they are about fighting. They'd give the rookies the boring assignments, and that included ones in the Real World. So of course I got sent out early and often. I was out in the field one night, in the middle of winter, in a snowstorm. Like I said, years and years ago." There was another long pause, and finally she threw the pebble off into the shadows, almost bitterly. "And I met the soul of a little boy, lost in the woods."

Toshiro had been fidgeting with his sandal, but at her words his hands stalled in mid-fidget.

"He had these big turquoise eyes, and he looked so scared. I didn't want him to be by himself, so I... instead of performing the Soul Burial, I opened the gates and walked him through the Precipice World and into the First District. I left him off my report. One soul unaccounted for."

She didn't say anything else, but let her head loll back against the stone wall and shut her eyes. There was a silence that might have lasted two minutes or might have lasted an hour. The room grew steadily colder as Toshiro struggled to keep his spirit pressure dampened, but she didn't shiver. Golden sunlight found her hair and seemed to warm them both with its vibrance. Eventually his fingers found the fabric of her sleeve and gripped a handful of it.

"It seems," he whispered, "that fate must have chained our souls together long ago."

"It seems so." she agreed, and her warm hand covered his and didn't let go.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Okay, this one was dull but it's done. They're waiting for the rebel guys to clear out so they can escape, find their missing troops and go meet the reinforcements when they arrive. At least, that's their plan. Not _my_ plan. I'm getting started on the next chapter, but don't hold your breath because it's action-packed and I am a slow writer of action. To those of you who question Matsumoto's weird attention to her job, my theory is that back when she was running the division on her own, she had to be pretty professional about it. I mean, who else was going to be, if not her? But after seeing that Toshiro is going to hold up his end of the work, she starts to slack off. Also yes, that's Yoruichi. She's plott'n on 'em, too.


End file.
